


In Conclusion

by redlipstick444



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Chaptered, Crying, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sherlock, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, John Feels Bad For Sherlock, John Helps Sherlock Because He's His Best Friend, Other, Poor Sherlock, Sherlock Deals with Loss, Sherlock Feels, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Sherlock Needs A Hug, Tears, Tragedy, chapters, multi-chaptered
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 06:16:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4049347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlipstick444/pseuds/redlipstick444
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes is an independent genius. He does everything his preferred way, and rarely allows anyone to assist him, except for investigational purposes. However, even then, it's rare. How will Sherlock, the self-proclaimed sociopath who insists that he relies on no one but himself, and also needs no one but himself, carry on with the impacting loss of someone who has always been there for him throughout his entire life, even when in the past he'd outwardly spoken of his desires for them to leave him be permanently?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Conclusion

Sweet. Bitter. Uplifting. Steamy, sizzling. Caffeinated. Coffee. John stirred two packs of sugar into Sherlock's coffee, as he had just previously transferred the warm liquid from the old pot into one of the expensive, porcelain cups, which'd been owned by Mrs. Hudson until shortly before he and Sherlock had moved into 221B. They had taken possession of them upon arrival, an unspoken agreement between them and their landlady. So long ago that was, thought John, so long ago. Time flew, especially when one had taken it upon himself to live with a man such as the annoying, yet brilliant and enigmatic Sherlock Holmes.

John stirred his own coffee, then removed the coffee stirrer, leaving both it and his cup on the counter as he traveled to Sherlock's room to deliver his coffee to him. Sherlock wordlessly and nonchalantly accepted his drink, as he was thoroughly engaged in a recent triple-homicide case, sifting through papers in which pictures of evidence had been printed upon. John smiled as he headed back to the kitchen, grabbing his cup by the handle and the bottom of it, being extremely cautious not to drop it or even spill any of it on the carpet, and sat down in his chair. The peaceful and relaxing aura that had settled upon their little residence on Baker Street had gently arrived about a week before, after a very difficult case which had proved to exhaust Sherlock so, and had remained for the time being.

Not much could ruin the day, or the mood, hardly anything at all. However, one of the worst thing that possibly could prove itself to wreck the environment of that afternoon were something along the lines of the spoken words: "Mycroft's dead".

 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

John heard a loud, crashing noise, followed by a sloshing sound emitting itself from the direction of Sherlock's room door. Figuring that Sherlock was just performing another minor experiment with the materials he'd had in his room, but at the same time still feeling the need to check on the man (for, with all of the billions and trillions of actions to be committed on Earth, combined with the presence of Sherlock Holmes, anything was possible, especially the outcome of the situation), John set his coffee down on the table directly before him, and arose from his comfortable seat, and walked towards Sherlock's room door. Upon arrival, he gently pushed the door open, only to be greeted with the unnerving sight of Sherlock Holmes standing rigid beside his bed, eyes glazed, wide, and fixed forward, sweat beginning to bead on his temples and around the paling flesh marking the beginning of his hairline. His phone was face-down on the floor beside him, and his once cup-of-coffee turned over on its side, the majority of its contents spilled onto the carpet. His complexion had become a sickening, death-mimicking pale. 

"Sherlock?" John asked, in genuine concern, taking a small step forward, but not yet reaching out his hand to touch Sherlock. That could produce a God-know's-what reaction. "Sherlock?" he asked once more. "What's wrong?"

Sherlock faltered for a brief moment, however his eyes never averting their hard, determined stare at the white wall before them. "It's Mycroft," Sherlock said, arms hardly visibly shaking. "He's dead."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey dearies! redlipstick444 here. I just wanna thank you soooo much for reading the first chapter of my new work, "In Conclusion". The next chapter will hopefully be posted soon.
> 
> Oh! And if you're a fan of my other work, "Ten Million Eternities" (which is a Sherlock x Reader fanfic), you should know that I have intents of uploading the next chapter very soon! :D And if you haven't heard of it, and it interests you, go check it out! Hopefully you'll enjoy reading what's posted so far as much as I've enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Thank you for your time! :)


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